Shrek is Getting Down
by clubpenguin5ever
Summary: College AU: Shrek and Lord Farquaad are about to get down... but what will happen when Shrek's ex, Fiona, wrecks the scene? Can their love prevail, or will she tear them apart? And what's this about the "Fiona Fires"?
1. Sexy Man

**CHAPTER ONE**

**_In which our lovers meet, whiskey is drunk, and sexual innuendos prevail_**

I slowly walked through the school, dazed because everyone was so tall… So overpowering to me, just a small shrimp. One day after school at the Poison Apple, a handsome man approached me. I could barely speak as he said with slight grin, "Hey there, little sexy man. My name is Shrek. What's yours?"

I was speechless as I just watched those rippling muscles through his shirt. I looked up and had to look down to collect myself. "He is the most handsome man I have ever seen," I said in a whisper - but, I guess, loud enough for Shrek to hear me.  
"You're even sexier. Tell me your name?" Shrek said, now crouching to reach my level.  
"Far - Farquaad," I whinnied as Shrek started to put his large hands all over my tiny head.  
"That's kinky," I said, and Shrek whispered seductively in my ear, "I like kinky." I was shaking all over, his voice carrying through my body. He took my tiny hand in his and covered my eyes with the other.  
"Come with me."  
We had been traveling for what I estimated to be at least 20 hours, with him leading in huge, jumping steps and me being dragged behind before he released me. Expecting a Worcestershire Academy fraternity (or perhaps a dorm room) I was confused as to why I was surrounded by marshy swampland. Had he really decided a swamp was the best place or was he just messing with me? But… I couldn't disagree with those enticing lips. Had it been any other day, I would have cared - but today was different. Today was the day that meant something, the day I would finally live - because Shrek was the one I was going to be "creating a swamp" with.  
I've been told by many others that Shrek is nothing to compare when it comes to "pitching a tent." I've been told by more that my sexual innuendos are nothing to be trifled with, just like Shrek's rock hard package.  
"MAIL'S HERE!" said the mailman, dropping the cardboard box in front of Shrek. I tapped it.  
"Odd," I said. "It's rock hard." We stepped into the hut, and the odor hit me. It was like a thousand onions, mixed with the scent of wedding cake and gingerbread. On top of the hardwood table was a 7-tiered cake, and, standing on the top, embedded in the icing, a gingerbread man. In his hand was what looked to be a whiskey bottle.  
"More booze!" shrieked the pot-bellied freak of nature, startling me into jumping backward into Shrek's strong arms.  
"Gingy's been living with me ever since the wife left," Shrek stated. However, I hadn't taken in a single word, as I was busy pondering the situation, thinking to myself: _How can this man get any more perfect?_


	2. Irritated Man

**CHAPTER TWO.**

_**In which an oven gets heated, a freak of nature considers being burned alive, and a relationship blossoms.**_

_I'm surrounded by idiots. A donkey, a midget, and an enormous ogre. Why? WHY?_

So Gingy thought as he took another gulp of whiskey.

_It's all pointless anyway._

The whiskey wasn't helping.

_It's all worthless. Look at this. I'm lying in a wedding cake next to a piece of gingerbread that I've deluded myself into thinking is my wife._

Alcohol was supposed to diminish his sense of disgust for reality, not enhance it.

"_Do what you enjoy!"_, Farquuad had said.

_Ignorance. Ignorance everywhere._

"Try doing yoga! It's impossible to be sad when you do yoga!" Farquuad suggested as he entered the room, checking his watch.

"I feel _nothing_, you ignorant son of -"

"Ayyyy," said Donkey as the door swung open. His eyes were red and he wore a black suit, tailored to fit him.

_Idiot. He's a donkey. _Everything _has to be tailored to fit him. Why wouldn't it be tailored to fit him? What is even the point of this? There's no use anyway._

"My aunt died! I was just at the inheritance meeting thingy," Donkey said, ripping off the fancy clothes and shoving Farquaad out of the way to slam down onto the couch, which made a horrendous cracking noise as it broke in half.

"Oh," said Gingy, trying to pull up the expression for sadness instead of just nothing. Even he could tell that he had failed miserably.

"No," said Donkey, "This is great! She left behind a _huge_ inheritance and guess who killed all his other family members in cold blood and got it in its entirety?"

"I didn't like them anyway," said Gingy, but Farquaad interrupted:

"That's terrible!"

"You know," said Donkey, ignoring Farquaad completely, "people called me a criminal in the third grade." He wiped away a tear, then wrenched out a gun from _oh god I don't even want to know_ "BECAUSE I KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"You ripped off a Vine, you high-maintenance mule," said Gingy from his position lying within the center of the 3rd tier of his cake.

"SHUT _UP _YOU STALE LOAF OF BREAD."

"Here," said Farquaad, "Why don't we go out and do something fun? We can go to the mall, or the waterpark, or even the new 4d cinema! You can't be sad when you're watching a movie in a 4d cinema!"

"Are you taunting me, you 1/7 of a fairy tale? Is this some kind of sick game where you list all of the things I can't have fun doing anymore? Is it my turn? Torture. Cannibalism. Political seminars."

"I was just trying to help," said Farquaad, his pride obviously hurt.

Gingy sighed. It was _all_ pointless. Perhaps tonight he would set the oven to a nice warm 350° F and cook himself instead of invariably chickening out and deciding on another tier of his cake. Not that he ever managed to get it to the actual cake before that _glutton_ of a donkey ate it.

6 hours later, another invariable tier of Gingy's cake was eaten by that _glutton _of a donkey.


	3. Reporter Man

**CHAPTER THREE.**

_**In which an old lover makes an appearance, a library burns, and a rip-off self-insertion OC comes to life.**_

"HEY, HEY, HEY, IT'S Sherloc Kholmes!" Sherloc Khomes, the self-insertion OC, said as he entered the Worcestershire Academy library, gaining a round of enthusiastic applause from the library-goers. Really, he should have been named Sherlock Holmes, but due to copyright laws, this was impossible. As soon as Shrek and I entered the room, in stark contrast to Sherloc Kholmes' entrance, it grew silent. Shrek didn't mind as he looked into my eyes and took my hand in his. His misty eyes looked into mine and we soon sat down at the only place that had two empty spots where they could be away from everyone.

"So," he said in that deep, sexy voice of his, "Shall we begin studying?"

I clapped my hands excitedly, leaping up and down in the air for joy, until the librarian, Mr. Merlin (see right), tossed a hissed "_Silencio!"_ his way. Since he was not only not a wizard but also completely and totally insane, his spell did nothing, so we ignored him. (To be fair, though, he _was_ the best bagel maker in Far Far Away).

I pulled a Latin textbook from the shelf and began to quiz him, since we had an exam the next day, but only a couple minutes into studying, though, he abruptly stifled a shriek and ducked underneath the table. He whispered to himself, in a way he surely thought no one could hear: "Shoot! Fiona's here. I better go before she sees me with the bae." Shrek grabbed my hand and pulled hard, so hard that my arm was immediately dislocated and nearly torn off my body. "Why do we need to leave? Who is this Fiona? Does she know you?"

"Is she looking for revenge? To hire? For her left shoe?" interrupted a new voice, and I looked up to see Sherloc Kholmes standing above us with pad and pencil in hand, wearing a reporter's fedora (see right).

By that time, Fiona had spotted us, and she glared in Shrek's direction as she approached us, coming towards the three of us faster and faster until she was running Naruto-style through the library, past innumerable startled readers. Her eyes, I could see, were alight with the fire of vengeance.

Shrek gave a bloodcurdling shriek and smashed his way through the stone wall of the library, carrying me protectively in his enormous, thick arms. As I climbed onto his shoulder to watch for Fiona behind us, I saw that she had stopped at the hole in the library wall, and heard the muffled "AHA!" of Sherloc Kholmes, a millisecond before the library burst into flame, engulfing each of the bookshelves in turn, until the entire thing was burning.

"AVENGE ME!" yelled Kholmes, and, seeing his waving arms, I grabbed Shrek by the ears and turned him around forcibly to run back around toward the library, heading for Kholmes.

"We're not going to make it!" cried Shrek, running ever faster to Kholmes' aid.

"I would die before I let my friends!" I said, and pulled back on his ears so that he leaped high into the air, arcing a foot above the head of Kholmes, who had climbed to the roof, and grabbed Kholmes' hand just as the building collapsed. We landed safely on the other side of the ruins where the library used to stand, and Kholmes and I hopped down off of Shrek's head.

"Alright, Kholmes -"

"Please, call me Sherloc."

"Fine. Sherloc, what did you find back there? What did you mean 'aha'? And why did this cause Fiona to try to kill you _and_ all of the witnesses in the library?"

"Well, it all began - hey, wait a second," he said, eyeing us suspiciously. "Turn out your pockets!"

I looked at Shrek, and shrugged. From my pockets came a ZZ-Top cd, a 1D record, a Justin Bieber 8-track, an Imagine Dragons LaserDisc, and a flamethrower. He reviewed all of these shrewdly, then looked back up at me.

"Hmm… This seems fine."

He glanced expectedly to Shrek, who had placed what was decidedly _not_ everything in those gigantic pockets of his on the ground in front of him. The pile included a piece of lint, a broken and used match, about 10 tons of shaving cream, a car, and a fire extinguisher.

"AHA!" called Sherloc, pointing with a grim expression of realization at the pile. Carefully, with a pair of tweezers from his coat pocket, he picked up the burned end of the match, peering at it through his blue eyes and shoving his scarf out of the way. "_This_ was the weapon! You're in cahoots with that nasty Fiona character. No, wait, that doesn't make any sense, you were trying to get out, and this has been long cool…"

He paced, scratching his head as he pondered the problem, and Shrek glanced at me worriedly.

"Unless…" Sherloc turned back to us, death in his eyes. "You were trying to frame me!"

"_What?_" said Shrek incredulously, as I simply shook my head in disbelief.

"You're fellow reporters!" he said, looking between us apprehensively. "But when I got here, there was too much competition! You wanted to get rid of me, through any way possible… Well, I can tell you that's _not_ going to work on me! I'll solve the case of the Fiona Fires first, and you'll never catch up with me with this new evidence I've found! You'll never be able to compete with _this!_"

Laughing maniacally, he smashed a glass orb with the label _Merlin_ on it, and a wall of smoke engulfed us, choking both Shrek and me. However, he managed to drag me out of the fumes, and he stood up determinedly, looking around. Sherloc was gone.

"I'd say it's time to pay a visit to Mr. Merlin," he said, staring off dramatically into the distance. I followed suit.


	4. Sad Man

**CHAPTER FOUR.**

_**In which a madman is confronted, certain information comes to light, and chamomile tea is pretentious.**_

Shrek rapped his knuckles against the door of the hut (see right) as Farquaad scanned the surrounding area for enemies. One could never be too careful here, he had learned: on the journey here (which had been long, grueling, and covered in annoying insects), they had been attacked by a host of elves, wolves, and a pack of Republicans all wearing George Bush masks and chasing after them with "God Hates Figs!" signs.

Presumably, they were meant to read a rather different slur, but the Republicans' leader had informed them that their designer had been young, flippant, and not the best at customer service. Ergo, "Figs".

"Merlin!" Shrek called, "I know you're in there!"

"Just a minute!" came a voice from within, sounding oddly like Eric Idle. Then there was a series of coughs, and the bony wizard wrenched the door open, doubling over after the effort rather pathetically as he wheezed. "I… simply… must… fix… that… door," he panted. "Perhaps… an automatic… function… would suffice."

"Yes, well," Farquaad said, staring nervously down at the notecards he'd prepared, "We need to speak to you. Could we come in?"

"Come on, already!" Shrek said from his sitting position at the dinner table. Farquaad looked up and sighed. He'd been too late; Merlin and Shrek were already inside.

"I made tea!" Merlin said, popping into the doorway in front of Farquaad and startling him. Farquaad stifled a cry and stepped backward, lost his balance, and hit the ground with a thud. By the time he looked up again, Merlin was gone from the welcome mat (or, in this case, the _Go Away_ mat) and serving Shrek some chamomile.

"Why the heckie did you pick chamomile, you absolute _nerd, _Merlin," I queried playfully. I really did mean it, though, Merlin was _way_ too pretentious to be living in such a dump. He just stuck up his nose and went to sit down next to my man, Shrek. Shrek gave Merlin a spooky look, not at all like the looks he'd given me when we "baked a cake." When I sat down, the song "F You" by Lily Allen came on, and I began to sway to the beat. Merlin was lip syncing, and if I was reading correctly he'd changed the "f you" to "f Farquaad." When the song "I kissed a girl" by Katy Perry came on, Shrek gave me this look, as though the song was somehow intended for me.

"So, Merlin," said Shrek, leaning forward in his chair, "You may have heard about the library fire just last week. Killed 40 of your past students. No one came out alive except for us and one other of your best pupils… A certain Sherloc Kholmes. Know him?"

"My dear Shrekie-poo," he replied, "I am a simple librarian. And of _course_ I know about the fire. I worked there."

"He seems strangely lucid," I whispered to Shrek, climbing up his arm to reach his ear and mutter into it.

"Yes," Shrek agreed. "There's surely some sort of nefarious purpose behind it…" Then, addressing Merlin, he said, "Kholmes tried to kill us with some kind of choking smoke - and who could be behind it, but _you!_"

"What?" Merlin said, leaping up and knocking his chair back. It hit the floor and splintered.

"We found _this_ at the crime scene!" Shrek cried, wrenching a piece of the glass bomb and shoving it in front of the wizard's face. Merlin just stared at it, recognizing the inscription as his own. His face drained of color, becoming a deathly pale.

"My dear Shrekie-poo," he said in a grim voice befitting a eulogy, "You have found my thief."

This time, it was Shrek's turn to cry, shocked, "_What?!_"

"Yes," Merlin proclaimed dramatically, "My stock of choking-people-so-you-can-get-away-clean-from-the-crime-scene gas has been depleted completely! I thought I would never find the thief, for no moment had I access to this or any evidence of it… _until now._"

"Wait -" Shrek gasped - "that means you _weren't_ the culprit!"

"Shrek," I said warningly, tugging on his sleeve.

"Not now, Quaddy," he said, but I only tugged more insistently. "Quaddy, we're so close to figuring out the answer!" he said, pushing me off and to the cold, stone floor.

"SHREK!" I yelled, jumping up only to shove him down, using all of my weight to get him down. Luckily, he complied, and he fell to the ground just as the wave of fire consumed the entire top half of the hut - and of Mr. Merlin.

_In a freak accident this past Wednesday, three deaths have been attributed to a fire caused by _gas_ leak in the home of the eclectic self-proclaimed wizard Mr. Merlin. Unfortunately, Shrek the Ogre, Farquaad Grumpy (former Lord of Duloc), and Mr. Merlin have all died in the fire, at ages 108, unknown, and 907 years respectively._

Shrek thumped the newspaper, grinning triumphantly. "You see here, Quaddy? We're home free!"

"But whatever do you mean, Shrekie-poo? Everyone thinks we're dead!"

He picked me up by the shoulders, spinning me around him, my central focus point, laughing giddily. "Exactly, Quaddy? Don't you see? If Fiona thinks we're dead, she'll never come after us! We're finally safe from…" His expression darkened, and he grit his teeth, hissing the words. "_The bae."_

My heart sank. I knew what I had to do, even if I didn't want to do it. "But, Shrek…"

"Yes, beloved Quaddy?"

I could hardly bear being the one to wipe that smile from his illuminated face.

"Shrek… We can't."

"What?" he said, looking bewildered and vaguely betrayed.

My eyes were watering, but I wiped the tears away that were threatening to invalidate my assessment. "Shrek, we…"

"Yes?" he said, looking ever more desperate by the minute. "Yes, Farquaad, what is it?"

"We have a responsibility!" I said, the words bursting from my mouth, quickly and in one fell swoop dashing his dreams against the rocks upon which so many sailors had died. "Sherloc Kholmes mentioned the case of the Fiona Fires, Shrek - this isn't just a one time thing! And he _knows_ something, Shrek - we've got to help! We've got to stop her from killing again!"

My eyes downward, my arms trembling, I finished: "We have to end this… Once and for all."

Shrek's face said it all. He was crushed: crushed by my naivety, my innocence. I knew what he saw in me, and I knew he had been attracted to it, once. Now, though, it was a hindrance. Something to cast off. And in his search for freedom, I knew he wouldn't hesitate. I turned away.

"I don't deserve you, Shrek. You know these things better than I - I am the All-Loving Hero, but you are practical. Pragmatic. If you're going to leave, leave me now."

He said nothing.

"Goodbye, Shrek."

I turned and began walking from the rubbish, tears down my face, threatening to overwhelm me. I was choking, now - choking back on all of the possibilities that would never be. Out of the darkness came a single word, from a broken man - a man whose morals not only threatened, but succeeded to overcome any friend - or, dare I say, boyfriend? - that he made.

"Goodbye."


End file.
